Moonlight (PitchOC)
by BloomAndFireforever
Summary: Pitch returns, drawn to the catalyst of his resurrection: Amelia, a woman who thought her faith in the unknown vanished after the death of her husband. A woman who learns that the recently revived spirit watches over her son. Amelia needs answers regarding Ben's death and learns to confront the being that stalks her child. But getting too close means she may not like what she finds
1. Chapter 1

**Amelia**

"I never believed Noah would have so many nightmares." The words came out as a murmur as I gripped the steering wheel, frowning at Ben. Then I took one glimpse in the rear-view mirror. "Honestly, this isn't normal. I think he needs help."

Ben reached out and placed a hand on my knee. I sighed.

"Don't people just get over it? I mean, how many years has it been? Three?"

"Four," I corrected. "He always gets them at Easter. Usually."

But it's not Easter, a voice in my head reminded me.

Since returning to Burgess six months ago, it seemed to me that Noah always checked to see how we behaved around him. Now, a menacing rumble of thunder caused me to steal another glimpse in the mirror. Where I spotted ice glistening on the pavement whilst the engine of the car grumbled with motion, the houses around us disappearing from view.

"Why can't he just tell us what's upsetting him?"

"He's only ten. Give him time."

"I have. You have no idea how worried I am."

I stared back at him, then bit my lip.

"Amelia, I'm serious. Noah hasn't been himself."

Ben glanced towards the back seat where Noah was sleeping. I watched our son move uncomfortably in his seat. One day, he would open up to us. One day, we could give him the courage to vanquish his fears. A part of me was sad Noah never said anything straight away. He always tried to keep going, but I know my son was just afraid to speak. Why, I didn't know.

After fifteen minutes, I cruised towards the turnoff, exiting the highway. This time, Ben smiled as I urged the car around uneven bends in the road.

"Storm's coming," I said and made a sharp turn at the lights.

The January snow, flittering down from the sky, settled in the leaves of the trees, flaking them in white. The bending road slipped into a sparkling path. I felt as if I were flying through a winter wonderland while the last rays of gold snaked behind the clouds.

I flicked on the headlights. That was the moment a child sledded across the road, grinning at thin air.

"Was that Jamie?" Ben asked.

"I believe so."

We sped along and made another sharp turn.

"There's no need to rush."

"That's odd," I said. "How the hell…?" I stared down at the pedals. "Okay, that can't be normal."

"Maybe you should quit speeding. We not arranging to meet anyone – CRAP!"

Ben looked straight ahead.

"Amelia!"

Something had coated the road. It was too dark for me to see what it was. The wheels screeched. It stuck, it's _solidness_ illuminated by the car's bright headlights.

"Amelia!"

We were speeding over the hardened ice.

"Mom!"

"Ben!" I screamed. "Noah!"

The ice shone. Reflected. Something black appeared right behind it. A car approached us from the top of the hill.

"Mom, stop!"

Glass exploded, and for a terrible moment, I thought it would flip and crush us inside. Instead we kept moving, and before I could react, water gushed through the crumpled, deformed metal, submerging everyone inside. The only thing I registered was a grey hand reaching for Noah's arm.

Then it seized mine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Noah**

I opened my eyes and I wasn't dead.

Just at the hospital.

In a bed.

Afraid.

Mom stared down at me. Her face was bright with concern, reflecting in the light emitted from the overhead panels.

"Thank you," she murmured, glancing at something behind my shoulder.

Everything started to come back to me: the car skidding on the ice, plunging head first into the water, a (grey?) hand grabbing us. Or was I dreaming?

A doctor came into the room and stood beside Mom.

"Mrs. Ryan? Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah, I'm starting to," Mom said.

The doctor and me looked at each other.

"Hello, Noah, how are you feeling?"

"A little dizzy," I told her, "But I think I'll be okay."

She smiled. "You don't appear to be seriously injured." Then to Mom. "Or you."

Mom seemed fine as far as I could tell. Except she was trembling a little, despite wearing a blanket. That was the moment I saw red circles underneath her eyes. Her nose was also red. My head throbbed. When I tried to move it throbbed even more.  
Mom was still looking at me. At first I hadn't noticed how big and puffy her eyes were. It must have been from all the tears. And Dad?

"Where is he?"

"Noah..." Mom croaked.

Then she told me what happened. I didn't believe her.

"NO!" When she moved to hug me, I backed away. "NO!"

"I'm sorry."

She explained it again. I could see it in her eyes. She wasn't lying. This time, I didn't yell. Or scream. For a long time, my body trembled in Mom's arms. Neither of us said a thing. My body was still trembling. Partly at the memory of staring at death and because Dad had been taken from us.

She told me a story and embraced me. We cried, for minutes and minutes until there were no tears left. Mom's words painted a picture of a loving father who zoomed down from heaven and fixed us because he wanted us to be happy. I sat up and wrapped my arms around Mom.

"Thanks," I said. "Why did we nearly die?"

I could tell Mom didn't want to explain. I recalled something she once told me.

"I didn't think the ice would be that dangerous," I added.

Mom inclined her head. Again, she was peering at something. When I turned my head to see what it was, the only thing remaining was a dark shadow in the corner.

"I know," she murmured, "That's why you need to be careful."

At first, I didn't know what to say. That was one of the wisest, truest and sensible things she'd ever said!

"Mom, did somebody pull us out?"

She hesitated a moment, looking me in the eyes.

"I believe so."

Mom was still trembling. In the bright lights, her face looked pale. As she gripped me tight, I felt her tears falling onto my cheek. She didn't say anything, just kept holding me, like we were dangling over a pit together. I squeezed her hand. Something told me she needed that too.

"I'm sorry, Noah," Mom went on, "Maybe I could have stopped this."

I released a big painful sigh, my voice barely above a whisper.

"But you tried."

As much as I missed Dad, at least Mom was still alive.

The doctor returned after fifteen minutes. She explained that the consultant wanted to keep us overnight. I'd never stayed in a hospital before – apart from when I was born – and at least, it was only for a little while. The very next day we could check out and go home.

I wish Dad was able to do that.

Mom and the doctor talked about something called hypothermia, which Mom said if you get too cold, your heart would stop beating. It would make you fall into a deep, deep sleep where you'd never wake up. The way she explained it left goose bumps crawling all over my skin. But at least if I was in a deep, deep sleep I could escape the world.  
Forever.

* * *

Later, much later, the doctors gave Mom tablets designed to ease her fear. After taking them, she stayed asleep.

Someone waited outside our door. Visiting times had stopped hours ago so it was probably one of the doctors.

Or a nurse.

Then I saw something else.

Oh no.

There was a pale-grey hand belonging to a slender frame with glossy black hair. He wore a long black robe with black trousers and shoes. His eyes were also gold. The darkness obscured him like a shadow. He chuckled.

"You didn't think I'd forget about both of you, did you?"

I screamed for Mom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Amelia**

 _Two weeks later:_

In the early days of our marriage, it never would have occurred to me that death do us part. This age old vow repeated through time. And it seemed death had finally parted us.

Now, standing before Ben's mourners, that reminder began to surface. My parents, Joyce and Felix, stood with me as Ben's body was lowered into the ground. Noah, dressed in a suit, swallowing back tears, leaned into the protective curve of my arms, clutching me as though I was the only thing keeping him alive. My brother, John, stood apart from us, his face bewildered and lost. He was accompanied by Gavin, a family friend who we'd known for years. Standing the furthest back was my neighbour, Mrs Bennett, with her two children, Jamie and Sophie, who'd arrived to pay their respects. She turned away after she caught Gavin watching them.

 _No one can change this,_ I thought. _There's nothing we can do to bring Ben's soul home_.

I wept heavily and took a step forward in spite of Noah squeezing my hand, my face streaming with tears. Noah must have felt my sobs because he responded by embracing me. I raised my head and saw that my child was still crying. There wasn't time for sadness.

When it was over, I invited the guests back to my house. We ate, spoke and at one moment I glimpsed out of the window where Jamie and Sophie sat with Noah in the garden. I didn't know what they were saying, but Jamie was making flying motions with his hands while Sophie drew snowflakes into a solitary patch of snow. The Bennetts were looking up at the fence, like they were speaking to something that simply was not there. That was the moment Noah scrunched his nose and giggled, almost like something was nipping at it. What he was giggling at, I might never know.

My mind rolled back to the first time I woke up to the empty side of the bed. In the two weeks before Ben had been laid to rest, there was something else I had realised, some absent form of lurking comfort. It was said that after someone died, sensing their presence was not uncommon. Perhaps Ben was reaching out to me. The very thought of that filled me with an instant satisfaction. The reason it had occurred to me now was simple enough: I missed him, but the thought of it was already adding to theories in my mind that were, in my opinion, clearly absurd. Noah once suggested the return of spirits might have actually been true, after telling me he was convinced one of them had visited us in hospital.

Darkness came and carried me off to sleep. I did not dream. This time, the contentment flickered out and when I turned so that I was laying on my side, the touch of a hand against my hair chilled me to the bone.

"Ben?"

The touch was gentle, tender, just like his. And I knew I really _did_ feel something. Afterwards, there was the faintest creak of a board, creaking the way old boards do for no reason at all. But to me it was something more – something unnatural – in that noise.

"Ben."

His name rolled off my tongue with no thought and I told myself: _if it's not him, who or what else could it be?_

There it was again: the slow gentle caress on my face, like a man's fingers.

The ticking of the clock illuminated the hands that read 3:00am and a cloud drifted away from the moon, letting in the light. For a moment, I remained perfectly still, dismissing the illusion of what I believed to me the moon glimpsing at me with old eyes in a wise face.

 _Go back to sleep,_ I told myself.

Some people thought that when you couldn't achieve that, you should hope there was a greater chance at distracting yourself. And before I could change my mind, I was already heading downstairs, and without giving Noah the chance to wake up to my absence, I ventured towards the clearing. The night sky emitted a welcoming presence, a strange contrast compared to the darkness of the woods. After ten minutes, I stopped at an empty field of grass.

" _Amelia."_

I leapt back, my heart hammering violently inside my throat. The voice took on a seductive, velvety quality and spoke with a strong British accent.

" _I won't hurt you."_

I shook my head and glimpsed towards the forest. When it finally occurred to me that my son was alone in the house, I felt my stomach turn to ice.

" _Don't be afraid."_

I opened my mouth and said, "That voice. It's familiar."

It felt like the trees were closing in and right then, I wondered if I was really alone. When I peered down at the jagged marks and fragments of splintered wood and the neighbouring hole in the ground, I froze when the light from my phone torch was eaten by the dark. My throat went dry, but I managed to check the gun was still in my pocket. I'd made a promise to myself to return it, so it would be like it never disappeared. Or rather, _stolen_. Could I really spend another three months resisting the urge to take something that didn't belong to me?

The drop was further than I initially thought and my ankle made a sickening click when I landed on all fours. I didn't know why I was here, or where 'here' even was. From my spinal cord, a twenty-eight-year-old network of nerves, a black dread emanated in waves. Then the audible creak of a door snapped me to life. Tension wormed its way into my veins and I clenched my fists. Maybe I wasn't alone after all. Maybe Ben was right by my side.

Walking through the dark, alone, was probably the hardest thing I'd done in my life. Right then, my mind conjured up what unlikely creature might be walking amongst my presence – what creature, what spirit. Perhaps something was peering at me with yellow reptilian eyes. And perhaps one night of them watching me wouldn't be enough; perhaps one night whatever was lurking would forget to close the window, and what I would see floating there might drive me into madness at one glimpse. And I couldn't explain it to anyone.

I mounted the steps, one by one, avoiding the moonlight where I might be seen. The basic ingredients of hell, I mused. Thousands of cages hanging and abandoned. I looked up at them.

This place was cold. The wind made its presence and from that moment, in the dark, I _believed._ I believed everything. A scream rose in my throat and it remained, unspoken, but the gun felt heavy in my right hand. It felt heavy when I brought it up and pulled the trigger.

"Hello, Amelia."

A chill that had nothing to do with the near freezing air rattled down my back. He chuckled.

"I must confess, this is certainly intriguing. An adult that can hear me, something I wouldn't expect. I'm actually rather flattered."

"Who's there?"

There was a pause before he replied, "I'm Pitch Black. You may have heard of me."

I said nothing.

"You'd probably remember me as the Boogeyman."

An empty chuckle made its way out of my throat and I kept my fingers resting over the trigger.

"This is insane."

"You think so?"

"You're a _story_."

Pitch's eyes remained fixed on the gun which I pointed at his chest.

"That won't hurt me." He didn't give me the chance to continue. "You know, considering it must have taken a lot of power, I'm grateful that you revived me."

The moment he came into the light, I felt my stomach drop. There was something in his eyes, I realised, remarkably gold – the way they differed from his skin and hair – that made me pause. He was painfully alluring and didn't look older than forty.

"What?"

"You don't have to be scared, Amelia."

"I'm not scared of you."

"Perhaps not. But there's one thing I understand: because of the crash you've become afraid of losing your son. I was the one who pulled you and Noah from the wreckage."

"Thank you," I began, "But you didn't have to do that."

"It didn't matter. I owed you."

"For what?"

"Saving me."

I smiled, but then my expression grew serious. The wind picked up again, as though understanding what I was going to say next.

"Ben's dead because of me."

"Amelia."

"If I hadn't been speeding, he'd still be alive."

"You mustn't blame yourself." Pitch spoke in a soothing, gentle tone. "It's not entirely your fault."

"Which means?" I snapped, without meaning to.

"Let me explain," Pitch said, "The night Ben died, when you saw Jamie sledding in the road, he wasn't alone."

"What do you mean 'wasn't alone?'"

"I know this might be difficult for you to believe, but Jack Frost was there."

I scoffed. "Jack Frost?"

"He's real, Amelia. And so are the others."

"Wait a minute, what others?"

"Who do you think?"

I ran my hands over my face. "So, you're saying that Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman and the Easter Bunny – they exist too."

He nodded.

"Why are you telling me this?" I went on.

"Because they're unaware I've returned." Something unspoken passed between the two of us:

 _And it's better if it stays that way,_ his expression read.

"The night in the car… are you saying that…?"

"Jack Frost is the one to blame. He makes a mess wherever he goes. That's why he did it before. He's a reckless boy who doesn't think before he acts."

A note of resentment crept into Pitch's tone. I looked at him wordlessly. There seemed to be no more on the topic to say.

Pitch added, "I know about the kleptomania."

At that, I felt my pulse climbing. He gave a little laugh and continued speaking without a moment's hesitation.

"You seem to be forgetting that I always know people's greatest fears. Yours is that it won't ever go away."

 _But it did once,_ I nearly said, _When Ben was alive._

I glared at him.

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Course I do. You're Amelia Ryan. You'll always been a kleptomaniac, no matter what you do. That's why you've reverted again. How many people have tried to help you over the years? How many times have you pushed them away? If the Guardians knew, they still wouldn't help you. Why? Because you're an adult. Adults aren't supposed to believe in us. Unlike a child… but that's obviously changed. If you want me to be honest with you, Jack Frost might be the least of your worries." He began circling me as the words rolled off his tongue, and when I opened my mouth to answer he managed to speak first. "Noah saw me when I came into the hospital."

"Did you frighten my son?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

"I didn't have to."

"Is that the only time you've come near us?"

"No," Pitch admitted.

On the opposite wall stood the other shadow: the professional psychologist waiting for answers. I felt my spine crawl.

"You came into my room," I realised.

"The reason I did that, was to make sure you were all right."

I put my hands to my face and realised I was crying.

"You were watching me sleep! How is that not creepy?"

"Amelia."

I didn't respond.

"Amelia." Gently, Pitch pulled my hands away from my face. "I know it can't be easy for you, but as someone who believes in _you_ , believe in _me_ when I tell you that it's all right to be afraid. That's why you never let Noah anywhere near that pond, in fact you've barely let him out of your sight. As a mother, you've done everything you can to keep him safe. And the kleptomania, that's something only _you_ can control."

"It's been three months since I last had a problem," I admitted, "And how do you know so much about parenting?"

He dismissed my words and gave a little chuckle again.

"You remind me of something I did a long time ago."

"Which is?"

"After the Man in the Moon choose to replace my fear with the Guardians' hopes, dreams and their wonder I wanted them, especially Jack, to understand how it felt to be cast out with no one left to believe in you. Because Jack knew how that felt for a long time, I tried to get him on my side. He didn't want to be feared and in short, all of them defeated me. I only ever wanted to be believed in. And four years later, here we are." Pitch released a dry chuckle. "Here we are."

I decided that trusting him might be a terrible idea. I didn't need his opinions about the Guardians because I already knew without completing my judgement that Pitch and them weren't exactly on the best of terms. They say that a person's eyes were the window to the soul and Pitch's expression was one I'd seen on my patients too many times before.

I was so involved in my own thoughts that I never noticed a horse's silhouette lurking right behind me until the heel scuffed and the dark form emerged. For a moment my mind was too stunned to recover my wits; it was busy processing at what I first failed to understand was animated black sand. The golden eyes marked the shape in detail that was wild and rogue, making deep nickering sounds in and out of its nose.

"What–" was all I managed to say.

The horse moved closer. The eyes fixed. I could hear its breath nickering in and out.

"Onyx, no!"

I missed the warning, and while I was still trying to process it, several others gathered on the path behind me. I knew nothing of the attack and didn't even register it until I was knocked to the ground. Pitch could do nothing but watch me fall, and froze when my head hit the wall with a hard and heavy thud.

Then everything turned black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Noah**

It was ten past eight on a Saturday morning –a bright sunny Saturday morning – and I was beginning to get concerned when Mom hadn't risen to make her morning coffee.

"Mom? Mom, are you up yet?"

She was probably still asleep. I left it another fifteen minutes before I decided to wake her up. Where Mom should have been sleeping was just an empty space in the bed.

The next thing I decided to do was try calling her cell. I waited. There was nothing…except perhaps the endless ringing tone. I shook my head,

"C'mon, answer."

This time, the ringing spanned out and when it went to voicemail, the gentle familiarity in Mom's voice frightened me:

 _Hi, it's Amelia. I'm sorry I can't come to the phone right now, so please leave a message._

Then I realised why I was trembling all over: Mom's phone was laying on the table. I told myself:

 _Maybe she just forgot to pick it up on her way to the store, but then why didn't she take her bag?_

When I reached for the phone and started to dial 911, tension had long already snaked into my fists. My mind felt dazed by the quick turnaround everything had taken. Only last night, Mom and I had been watching TV, besides the rational warmth of the open fire.

And now, I was afraid.

* * *

It was mid-morning when I snapped to life at the sound of pounding against my door. Much to my surprise, Jamie waited at the edge of the steps. He was accompanied by the twins, Claude and Caleb. Standing beside them were Monty, Pippa and Cupcake.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," I repeated, "What are you guys doing here?"

"We thought, maybe, you might wanna come sledding with us," Jamie explained.

I stitched a smile. "Sure."

I went to get my sled, paused, looked back. Jamie and his friends were looking at me questionably.

"Is something wrong?" Monty asked.

"Whatever it is, you can tell us," Pippa reassured me.

I wasn't smiling anymore. When I focused myself, I glanced at all of them and explained, "My Mom's missing." They were still chewing this revelation by the time I added, "And I think a ghost pulled us out of the pond."

I envisioned at least one member of the group lifting an eyebrow without saying anything.

"A _ghost_?" Pippa said.

"Do you think it's your dad?" Jamie asked me.

I shook my head.

"It's not my dad. The last time I saw him – the ghost – was at the hospital, two weeks ago; and he hasn't left me alone."

"Well, guess we'll call in an exorcist," Caleb teased.

"You guys, I'm serious," I added swiftly, "I'm telling you, that ghost, he was _real_." I lowered my voice. "Come in."

Jamie shot me a reassuring glance.

"I believe you, Noah."

That's why we'd become friends. Jamie was one of the few children who'd placed his faith in the unknown. Intrigued, Jamie Bennett always knew what he wanted to find. Discovering truths that many choose to ignore.

By the time everyone came inside, Pippa and Cupcake had settled in the living room. There was nothing I could say or do to hide my concern so I just smiled at Jamie and said, "Thank you."

We'd begun to walk into the kitchen when Monty's cries left me with an unpleasant dread that left my voice lodged firmly inside my throat.

"I think you guys better see this!"

Before we knew it we'd raced upstairs, Jamie and the others following me from behind. In addition to being a little out of breath and dumfounded by my mother's disappearance, I had a clear free-running sense of what I saw sprinkled on the carpet and on Mom's bed.

Black sand.

Jamie's eyes grew wide.

"What?" I promoted. "Jamie, what's going on?"

"You mean you don't know?" Cupcake murmured from behind me.

"About what?"

"Remember that year at Easter when there weren't any eggs or when the Tooth Fairy never came?" Jamie began. "Four years ago?"

"Yeah."

"There's no easy way to explain this, but…Pitch Black did it."

Disbelief threatened to submerge me.

"Who's he?"

"The Boogeyman," Pippa answered.

Cupcake held my gaze. "He's the reason we had nightmares."

"But he was defeated!" Monty started to yell, "How can he be back?"

"Pitch said Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman and Jack couldn't get rid of him forever," Jamie told us, "There would always be fear."

I blinked, staring stone faced at them. For a second, I wondered if we were climbing into a hole too deep to get out of.

"The night I lost my dad, during the crash… all of us got scared, _really_ scared." My eyes threatened tears. "I think my mom and I caused Pitch to come back. Now he's stalking us."

Jamie reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"And maybe he's taken your mom," he murmured.

Jamie found his eyes dragged away from me, towards the window. Everyone looked around and saw the snowflakes drifting in from outside.

"Jack!" Jamie cried.

I turned to him. "What are you doing here?"

Jack said nothing, just leapt through the window, clutching his staff. There was silence for the next few seconds, broken only by Jack's uneven breaths.

"Wait here." A note of concern had snaked into his voice. "Just, wait here."

An image came to me of myself and the others hopefully trying to get him to calm down. He turned and disappeared into my room. When he reappeared, he crouched down and dived looks between Jamie and me.

"Has anyone been in here?"

As Jamie and I looked at each other, I scooped up the black sand from Mom's pillow and placed it in Jack's hands. Against the brightness of the sun, his face looked pale. Then his eyes widened.

"Pitch? He's supposed to be gone!"

And then, almost to myself, I murmured, "We think he's got my mother."

"But she's an _adult._ Why would he take her?"

"Jack," I said slowly, "There's no easy way of saying this, but my mom and I are the ones who brought him back. We didn't know. But he…he…he _saved_ us! He just wasn't quick enough to save my dad."

"From what?" Jack asked, "Noah, what are you talking about?"

"Mom lost control of the car and we almost drowned," I told him, "Pitch pulled us out of the pond."

Jack shook his head.

"He saved our lives," I continued. "But I don't know why he's kidnapped my Mom."

I stood trembling, rooted to the spot, as Jack ran a hand through his hair. Jamie watched him, worried.

"This can't be happening…" he trailed off.

"Now what are we supposed-"

Something had startled us. We waited in the glowing sun and the bitterly cold wind which howled through the window, like a warning. Cupcake and Pippa were the first to peer towards the hallway as a key turned in the main lock in the door.

"Hello? Is anyone home?" Gavin shouted.

"It's me!" I answered.

In a low, hushed tone, Caleb muttered, "Why does he have a key to your house?"

"He's a family friend," I explained. "Before Mom, Dad and I moved in, he used to live here."

"Does she know?" Pippa whispered. "About the key?"

It only occurred to me now that I didn't know the answer. In fact, I had never known. I never knew this might one day be important, not even when Gavin helped Mom, Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle John with Dad's funeral. Oh God, I hope Mom knew.

"Noah!" Gavin said. "I thought you'd be out."

When I was about to respond, Monty suddenly sneezed. Cupcake shot him a glare then looked awkwardly at me.

"Oh. You've got company," he went on. "Where's your mother?"

"Sleeping," I lied.

Gavin stood motionless at the bottom of the stairs. He hovered in front of the door, folding his arms, waiting.

"Can you wake her?"

I shook my head.

"She's working late tonight. She needs time to rest."

"Amelia!"

"She's asleep."

"I don't think she is. In fact, I don't think she's here at all, is she?"

I swallowed hard.

"The truth is… she's gone missing."

If you looked into Gavin's mind, you'd see the soul of a calm, patient man. The others, including Jack, gathered at the top of the stairs, looking down at him as Jamie held my gaze, and playing along, suggested, "Should we call the cops?"

"It hasn't been twenty-four hours, they won't even start looking for Amelia. Didn't anyone ever tell you that?"

While Jamie stood there stunned, Jack shot Gavin a look of complete and utter distain. According to Jamie, Jack never had much patience with adults anyway. To him, they were too ordinary, boring, always running around without any time to have fun. But such was life.

I knew nothing of Gavin approaching Jack and didn't even register it until he'd walked right through him. I squared my shoulders, looking Gavin right in the eyes.

"Why are you here?"

"Your father left some things for me," he answered. "I came to collect them."

No one said a thing.

Jack scoffed after Gavin left.

"Can you believe that guy?" he said to no one in particular, and stared at Jamie longer than he'd intended to.

I lowered my gaze and murmured, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Jack told me.

"Gavin's usually like that, especially when he's upset. It's been a difficult time lately."

"You think because of that that he might give you a break," Cupcake said, disgusted.

Pippa's eyes gleamed with instant recognition. She spoke to all of us, although she looked at Jamie.

"Why did your mom look so uncomfortable when he showed up to Mr Ryan's funeral?"

"Because she'd filed a restraining order," Jamie replied.

I froze. This was new information.

"How long have you known?"

"A few days."

"Why, Jamie?"

"I don't know," he said, "Noah, I don't know. But your mother's Kleptomania came up in conversation."

Jack knitted his eyebrows.

"What's Kleptomania?"

I let out a long breath and explained, "It means she takes things. She feels okay when she's doing it, then afterwards she starts to feel bad."

"Good."

I shot Jack a disapproving glare.

"That's exactly what Pitch did," he went on.

"My mom's nothing like him."

"Are you sure?" Jack responded.

"Of course I'm sure!" I snapped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell."

"It's okay." Facing Jamie, he asked, "Did your mom know Gavin came here again?"

Jamie shook his head.

"I don't think so."

Jack took a deep breath, opened his mouth, then closed it. Looking at him, I realised I didn't want to ask what he was thinking after all. My concern for Mom was always there, especially after what Gavin said earlier. But he didn't know the truth like us. Because he hadn't seen. Or _believed_. I was already walking into the living room when a hand fell on my shoulder.

"I have an idea," Jack said.

A little way outside my house, the street ended at the crossroads. Once Jack waited for Jamie and I to catch up, we realised he was reaching into his pocket and holding something.

"The snow globe?" Jamie asked curiously.

"Well if I'm taking you both to the Pole, I figured we should at least have a decent shortcut."

"All right," I said, "Where exactly did you get that?"

"I may have borrowed it on my way over," Jack told me.

Jamie's eyebrows rose.

"I see."

Jack threw it high into the air, and when it transformed into a portal, we followed.

* * *

As our feet touched the ground, Jamie and I glimpsed around in awe.

"This place is amazing."

"Wow."

We heard footsteps and saw Jack was approaching.

"Pretty cool, huh?"

"Jack!" A Russian voice shouted.

We met the wide eyes of an evidently bewildered Santa.

"WHAT ARE THEY DOING HERE?"

Much to my surprise, I realised the second voice belonged to the Easter Bunny. He was much taller than I originally thought, about six foot and I didn't expect him to be Australian either.

"Hi." My voice had gone quiet, but my expression remained calm. "It's nice to finally meet you in person."

"Wait a minute!" a female voice quipped and before I knew it, the Tooth Fairy hovered in front of Jamie and smiled at him.

"You're a lot taller than I remembered."

At that, Jamie chuckled.

"It's good to see you again, Tooth."

I stepped back a bit. That was the moment she embraced Jamie and peered over his shoulder.

"Noah?"

"Hello."

"Hi."

Afterwards, I realised Jamie was exchanging hugs with a much smaller figure.

"Sandman!" I exclaimed, "How are you?"

He grinned and raised both thumbs.

As Jamie and the Guardians began speaking to each other, I paced over to the window and stared down at the mountains. Then ran both hands over my face and started to dry my eyes. Jack crouched down and continued to hold my gaze.

"Don't worry. We'll find your mom soon."

"Wait, what?" Bunny asked. "What do you mean? What's going on?"

Jack sighed.

"Pitch is back, and we think he's got Noah's mom."

"Mate, tell me you're joking."

Jamie and I shook our heads as Jack inclined himself and replied, "Pitch pulled Amelia and Noah out of the pond because their fear was strong enough to set them free. After that, he wouldn't leave them alone."

"So now he's taken Amelia?" Tooth concluded.

"If he's supposed to frighten children, why has he turned to adults?" Jamie wondered.

"I'm not sure. None of us are," Jack went on. "If we look into Noah's memories – or Jamie's – maybe we'll find answers."

My throat went dry, but I started to try to say something anyway. Before I could make a sound, Jamie managed to cut in first.

"This is so weird."

What escaped from my throat was a terrified exhalation of air. I moved my head so that I was looking at Tooth, my tone and face grave when I asked, "So where do we start searching? Wherever Pitch is keeping my mother, do you think we can get inside?"

"I'm not sure," Bunny admitted. "Last time we looked, Pitch's lair was sealed right under. We had no way of getting in at all."

I hesitated for a moment then said, "So we look someplace else."

Jamie nodded his agreement.

"But where?"

"Jack and I will take the kids to my palace. If Jamie and Noah can look into their memories, maybe we'll find clues," Tooth explained.

After North threw the portal into the air, Jack, Jamie and I followed Tooth through it. We arrived at a grand palace incremented with detail then moved slowly through the building and came after Tooth.

At the end of the corridor was another of many rows containing boxes of teeth, all stored in alphabetical order. While I waited with Jamie and Jack, Tooth reappeared holding Jamie's memory box and passed it to him. That was the moment I chose to look around. I turned and saw Jamie opening his box and when Jack asked him if he remembered anything important about the last few days, he shook his head and placed his golden box back onto its shelf.

We came to another one after five minutes. One that had 'NOAH RYAN' plated with gold. I hesitated a moment, looking the three of them right in the eyes.

"Don't worry," Jack teased, "These ones don't bite."

And when I peered towards the shelf, I felt my stomach drop. They must have been aware I was frightened, because they looked at me as though struggling to search my eyes. When Jamie said my name, I turned to him and replied, "My teeth are missing."


	5. Chapter 5

**Amelia**

Sometime in the darkness, I rose from unconsciousness with no pause, no hesitation. The reminder of the pain lingered as I drifted awake. A horse – one made out of sand – had attacked me. I remembered that and I remembered backing away – and then it had attacked me before Pitch had managed to stop it.

Next came the earlier memory of Pitch's voice calling to me. I couldn't remember much, but I remembered descending into his lair and whatever had made me do it must have been something close to foolishness. Then Onyx had attacked me, causing me to black out.

My eyes opened to the darkness and I shivered. Fear seized me and my heart started beating at an unusually fast rate.

 _It's just the adrenaline!_

I felt the pounding in my head from where it had made contact with the wall. I felt everything and the voice in my mind was reminding me about Pitch…How his resentment of the Guardians had led to his defeat, his longing to be believed in, his approval of being resurrected and then he had lured me here. Had he known all along that was possible? Maybe it was a guess. Or maybe he understood I was his new source of fear.

I saw that I was laying on my side, on something cold, my body against stone. It took a couple of attempts, but I managed to sit up. And screamed.

"PITCH!"

I scrambled towards him, moving as fast as I cold while breaking into a cold and thick sweat.

"PITCH!"

Without thinking about what I was doing, I grabbed him around the shoulders and shook him, hard. He wasn't responding. The small black shapes circled above his head. His eyes were closed, bunched up.

 _He's having a nightmare,_ a voice in my head reminded me.

I tried to follow the shapes, tried to keep my gaze on them. The first five must have been the Guardians because two of them resembled a man with a long beard and an oversized rabbit. There was something else, something that made me freeze in place. The next few shapes seemed to be the horses, like the ones that had surrounded us moments before they'd attacked us. Except, in the nightmare, they submerged a man whom I recognised as Pitch. In his nightmare, the last thing that happened were the Guardians watching him fall victim to his fears. I didn't know what he was afraid of but based on what he'd told me, it must have been something about being isolated and fading away.

My hand flew at one of the shapes, and instantly, before I could react, they changed. So did the colour of the sand. Golden butterflies circled above his head. And when Onyx dared to take another step, she backed away after I strode toward her.

 _Good,_ I thought _, define progress._

"Don't touch him," I said, firm without aggression.

Next, I felt the tension beginning to evaporate from my body.

"I'm not afraid of _you_ ," I went on.

If Pitch could be moved to somewhere more secure, somewhere safer… I threw my heavy arm around his shoulder, and when I helped him to his feet I didn't know where I was supposed to take him.

The wind blasted through, almost like it was calling to me. At that moment, I boosted myself with a small incline of my shoulders so that I was not just supporting his weight, but also mine. When he was securely in my grip, I moved through the steps and looked around. Beside the dark, a ray of moonlight was my only companion. A companion observing me when Ben was killed in a heartbeat.

I dragged Pitch until the ground underneath my feet became even more uneven and I found myself listening to the silence, fascinated by it. There didn't even appear to be the faint, gentle buzz that came when a solitary place grew far too quiet. There was only the sound of Pitch's heart beating against mine, slow, gentle. Yet I knew of course.

Onyx was behind me.

The room I soon recognised as a kitchen was decorated in black, giving it a sleek and tidy look. Opposite that was a grand dining room with a large wooden table and on it was an untouched plate with a single knife and fork, all polished and clean.

The bedroom door was standing ajar.

 _Come on, Pitch_. I thought, _You need to rest._

The cold grip of fear had long disappeared and the bedroom door was open just a crack and no light entered it at all. The blanket of darkness seemed to float heavily over the bed, waiting for the night to fall so it could swallow it all. Then I stepped forward, and using my free hand, pushed the door open and stood for a moment, peering in. Inside the room was a king sized bed with large pillows and a freshly made bedding, all of them black. After laying Pitch down, I unhooked his arms after he'd managed to wrap them around my neck, then reached to brush strands of dark hair away from his heart-shaped face.

My mind rolled back to a three-year-old memory where Ben had managed to catch the flu at work. Even the hand sanitizer on the wards hadn't been enough to chase away the bugs. Dosing up on painkillers at the time seemed to do the trick, at least when they eased his throat. Ben, being the determined man he was, had recovered without much trouble. I'd made sure of that every day. That same year, it was a relief that all Noah had suffered with was just a headache and not another episode of the chest infection during the first five months of his life that had left him in hospital for a number of days.

Now I had Pitch stable, what I needed to do next was find a way out of here. The hole I'd come down was far too high to climb and I wanted to kick myself for leaving my phone; let alone being so easily lured down there in the first place. The glowing hands on my watch were enough to tell me that I had been down here for more than twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours where Noah had been left alone in the house. Another reason to get the hell out of here.

When I started to back away from Pitch's room, everything around me was motionless and still. It felt like I had taken some form of drug where once the effects wore off, I would forget everything I had recently seen.

Something reflected in the corner of my eye, inside the wardrobe, inviting me in. when I took a closer look, I recognised the shape was a small golden locket contain a photo of a girl, about six. It was tucked away with a small golden box and a General's uniform that had faded with age. Despite that, it looked good. High-ranking even. Diving looks between the uniform and Pitch, it never occurred to me that this might have been his. Pitch had never struck me as the General type but if that was once who he was, why was he the Boogeyman now?

That I didn't know. I did not intend to dwell on it.

His eyes flew open. I kept stumbling backwards until I fell against the bedroom door. In spite of that, he remained looking at me with an impassive expression and asked, "Did I scare you?"

"Don't ask stupid questions."

He feigned hurt.

"That wounds me, woman," he droned. He sat up a little, realising where he was. "Hang on… did you carry me all the way here by _yourself_?"

"I'm not weak."

He made a note of the way I kept my hand firmly over my right pocket.

"I told you before, that gun won't hurt me."

"I doubt that's true. Besides, I'm a grown woman. I think I can handle being a little nervous." Which brought me to my next question. "Why did your nightmares attack you in the first place?" I realised something. "You were afraid of fading away and being forgotten, weren't you?"

"You don't understand anything," Pitch seethed.

I remained standing there and staring stone-faced at him.

"Thanks to the Guardians, no one believes in me and yet again I've been written off. Because everyone's overcome their fear, there's no one left."

A moment later, I cupped his face.

"There's me." And I _just knew_ that all the sarcasm, all the wit, was a piece of armour shielding his pain. "You know, when I trained as a psychologist I learnt fear can be your friend. In other words, it _can_ protect you." I didn't give him the chance to continue. "After Ben died, it made me aware I needed to take care of Noah. Without fear, we probably wouldn't be standing here having this conversation." We stared at each other longer than we'd intended to. My cheeks reddened. I summoned enough courage to hold eye contact and added, "So…you're the Boogeyman."

"Yes I am."

"What sort of nightmares do you give?"

Pitch grinned.

"Very mean ones."

"No. What I meant was…do you scare kids about anything rational?"

"Well, the more rational the fears, the less entertaining it is."

"And what's your favourite book?" I asked keenly.

"Romeo and Juliette."

Resisting the urge to glance back at the uniform, I asked, "And did you always know spreading fear was what you wanted to do?"

He hesitated.

"Okay, my palms are starting to sweat. I feel like I'm in a job interview. Do you, by any chance, know how to talk to people?"

"I'm interrogating you?"

"Yes."

"I haven't really spoken to anyone in a long time. Apart from when I'm at work."

"Well, since I've already saved you, you've saved me and we believe in each other," Pitch soothed, "Maybe we can make our own rules." He chuckled. "Why are you blushing?"

I touched my cheek, and when I did my hand came away warm.

"Sorry, I didn't know I was. I think you're making me nervous. Okay…I'll try and be myself. It's not easy, but I'm gonna try."

"What was the question?" Pitch asked, "Oh! 'Did I always know I wanted to spread fear?' the answer is yes. Because that's the only thing I knew. I didn't know anything else before that. Okay, I believe my time's up. It's your turn."

"Already?"

"Deep breaths," he murmured.

"Well, like I told you before, I'm a psychologist – and I have a Ph.D."

Pitch's eyes burned with satisfaction.

"I didn't know you were a – what's the word? – doctor."

"That's probably because I didn't mention it. But now that I have, I know that you were likely raised to be a polite gentleman, despite your occupation. I can admit it and maybe you won't be intimidated by it."

"No, no, I'm still a little intimidated by it."

"Well, a little is one step ahead of the game," I explained. _Which I suppose makes us even now,_ I added mentally.

Pitch shuffled over a little and made space for me on the bed. I hesitated, but sat down anyway.

"Tell me about your family."

"Okay, well, my parents have been married since I was two years old, I have a brother, John, nothing irrational never particularly bothered me, I have a son who's ten, I'm recently a widow and because of John, I really _don't_ like clowns."

"Wait!" Pitch said, "You're saying you've never been frightened by anything irrational?"

"I know. That must sound terrible. Especially when I was still a kid. You know, I tried. Believe me." I took a deep breath and let it out, slowly and gently. "Can we talk about you some more? Please."

"Okay, well, I'm trapped in my own fears all the time."

"Really?"

"Really, _really_ ," Pitch repeated. "More than any man you've ever met."

"You don't have to be this nice to me."

"It happens to be the truth. An unexpected anxiety attack, I'm trembling."

At that, I laughed.

"Amelia, I'm a coward. I think I'm a coward. I think I must be."

I started. "What exactly did you do to make them hate you so much?"

"The Guardians. Well let me clear your mind about one thing, in a bid to rid the world of all its wonder and light, I went as far as ruining Easter."

 _And that's what caused Noah to have nightmares every year_ , I thought.

Once every four years, Ben and I had taken it in turns to wake him from one of his bad dreams. An anxiety that became stronger when the next Easter fell. Over and over, Ben and I had always struggled with giving him hope. It had always been challenging and even more so now Ben wasn't coming home. The revelation gave me a morbid chill.

Pitch may not have put Noah in _physical_ danger, but knowing what he'd done was enough to make the rage in my blood hotter.

The sound of the gun shot ricocheted throughout the lair as I pulled the trigger again and spotted the lifeless bullet laying on the floor. Pitch recognised I had no intention of harming him, but I wanted to make him understand how it felt knowing he'd disheartened my own child. Including Jamie and the rest of their friends. He lifted his chin, looking me right in the eyes.

"Don't you want to know what else I did that year?" he gloated. "Why the tooth fairy never came…"

Deciding to change the subject, I looked him right in the eyes and asked, "If you'd have won, would you have really been happy?"

Pitch thought about this for a moment. While he did, my mind conjured up probable reasons of why he had stolen the children's teeth in the first place. If what Noah had said about the Tooth Fairy helping him with his memories was true, which bizarrely I thought could be, maybe it wasn't only the children's memories Pitch had wanted.

Maybe it was his.

If it was part of a buried longing he didn't know about, maybe he'd been subconsciously trying to find out the truth without really knowing it.

As I strode towards him I understood it: the recognition that something about me was more dangerous than before. For the first time, Pitch was unnerved by a human. I thought it over and said, "Okay, Pitch, I'm prepared to offer you a deal. Listen to me. You will act as my associate and help me find out how Ben died–"

"I told you before, deep down you knew Jack Frost got your husband killed. There are other ways to bring him to justice."

"That's not what I'm implying," I said through lips set in a tight line. "After the car was removed from the pond and taken for evidence despite the cops being unable to find anything, I started to remember getting it serviced the week before and getting the brakes fixed."

"What are you saying?" Pitch asked.

"They weren't broken before the crash and brakes don't get damaged like that, not unless they were…" I felt my stomach drop…"cut." I held his gaze with a sick, shaken fear. "It wasn't an accident. Someone wanted me – or Ben – _dead_! Whoever did it was perfectly fine with putting Noah's life at risk. My own child! It wouldn't have mattered if Jack hadn't iced the road over, because I _wouldn't_ have been able to stop the car." I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. "Pitch, if _you_ help _me_ … I'll help you overcome your fears."

He gave a wicked smile.

"I'm in."


	6. Chapter 6

**Amelia**

There were snow covered trees in every direction and the light from the moon reflected over the clearing. Pitch and I remained perfectly silent, ignoring the cries of the wind. As we looked around, the moon's light intensified, almost magically. I looked around, confused, then turned towards the moon as its light gently began to drop. When I glanced up, Pitch had retreated into the forest.

"Come on," he ordered.

A hand squeezed mine and led me away from the field. Even after glimpsing at my watch, I was still reeling from the revelation that I'd been gone longer than I'd thought. Because I loved being lured out of my house and tossed around by nightmares. _Not._

"Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you home."

"Why?"

"You need to get back, don't you?"

I closed my eyes and sighed. How would I even begin to explain this to Noah?

"Can I ask you a question? Why did you try and tip the balance so much?"

"Too desperate, I suppose."

"Hmm. Being alone tends to do that to a person."

"Except _you're_ not alone. You haven't been cast out, you're believed in and you have a family."

I moved so that I was facing him and felt a pang of empathy as I listened. There was so much that needed to be said, but I didn't know where to start. Didn't know how to. We locked eyes and something unspoken passed between the two of us.

"Did you have a family?"

"No."

 _That can't be true,_ I wanted to say.

"Seriously?"

I was met with a raised eyebrow. Pitch looked away and I continued walking. What I saw pinned to the lamp posts might as well have jumped out and slapped me across the face.

"Oh, crap," I muttered.

 _POLICE APPEAL FOR ASSISTANCE  
CAN YOU HELP?  
Amelia Ryan has been missing for thirty-two hours in_

 _Burgess since November 9_ _th_ _2016_

 _Amelia is described as 28-years-old with long blonde hair._

 _Anyone with information regarding Amelia_

 _should contact 020794600 or call 911._

 _Have you seen Amelia Ryan?_

 _Do you have any information?_

 _Please call the helpline on_

 _020794600_

I didn't even register the poster getting smaller until a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, helping me to stand. I was panting now and placed my hand flat against a tree.

"Are you – are you seeing this?"

Pitch nodded.

"I thought this could happen. People have been worried about you."

My voice sounded smaller in the dark.

"I have to go home."

"Then let's get going."

* * *

It was 8:30pm by the time I arrived home, where I stopped in my tracks at the shocking sight: Noah was on the doorstep, speaking to the police. Standing a little away from him and also being questioned was Jamie and his mother. As I searched around for Pitch, a pair of reptilian-yellow eyes watched me from underneath a car.

I took a step forward, hesitant at first then took another – and another.

"Noah?"

He blinked, the shock of seeing me drying his tears.

"Mom?"

"Noah."

"MOM!" He shattered completely and launched himself at me. "Mom! Mom! Mom!"

I crouched down, pulling him into my arms. And when my own tears came, no attempt was made to hide them. Jamie and Mrs Bennett were looking at us now and Noah snuggled tighter into my arms, sobbing against my chest.

"It's okay, it's okay," I murmured. "I promise you, sweetie, that I'm not gonna disappear again."

"Mrs Ryan?"

The first cop approaching was a woman in her forties. She had dark brown hair that was taken back in a clip while the second officer was a slightly older man who might have been the chief. I let go of Noah and faced them.

"Are you Amelia Ryan?"

"Yes."

"We received a phone call from John Sharpe, your brother. He's the one who reported you missing and your friend, Gavin Boyd, created the posters."

I nodded, urging them on.

"Can you tell us what happened?"

I was silent for a long time, long enough that they thought I hadn't heard them.

"I fell down a hole and hit my head."

The officers gave me a sympathetic look. Both of them kept looking at me as the female cop explained, "Now that you've been found, we have to close the missing report and inform your family you were safe and well, except we can't tell them where you were."

"Thank you."

"Take care of yourself."

"I will."

Where the police car had been parked was now just an empty space on the side of the road.

"Amelia?" Mrs Bennett asked, trying to get my attention. "Where were you?"

"Uh…" I moved my head to concentrate on her, "I'm not quite sure."

I spoke quietly yet it seemed everyone had heard me, including Jamie.

"It's okay," was all she managed to add.

Noah pushed his way into the middle, clasping my hand. The steady murmurs of sympathy died down as Mrs Bennett waited to speak.

"You look terrified. Can I get you anything to make you feel better?"

"What were you thinking?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "Coffee."

I managed a smile.

"Coffee would be great, thank you." I paused. "I just need a moment to process everything."

Facing the boys, she asked, "Are you both coming inside?"

Jamie and Noah looked at each other, then Jamie faced his mother and replied, "Just give us a second."

She chucked.

"Okay."

When she left, Jamie's expression grew serious.

"Did Pitch kidnap you?"

"You know about Pitch?" And when I turned around, I felt my heart stop. "Oh my God…"

Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman and even the Tooth Fairy stood watching us from the other side of the road. While they were doing so, I made eye contact with a pair of piercing blue eyes. A sort of shock ran though both of us and as the boy stared at me, he blinked. Curiosity and disbelief reflected in his gaze. As I studied him, my eyes widened.

"Jack!"

"Can you see me?"

I nodded.

"A _grown up_ can see me!"

Santa snapped to life at the sound of Jack announcing his delight.

"That can't be!" he exclaimed. "They always stop believing in us."

The other three Guardians remained looking at me, wondering what to do next.

"Can Amelia _really_ see us?" the Tooth Fairy asked.

The Bunny's eyes narrowed.

"Looks like it."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Jack started, "Does anyone wanna know why an adult is believing in us?"

Just as I was about to explain, the street became darker than it already was. We looked up as a shadow crawled up the side of Jamie's house. No one knew anything about the lights being snuffed out and didn't even register it until the sparks fell at our feet. The Guardians recovered their wits fast, following Pitch's movements and reaching for their weapons.

"All this shock over one adult and still you let me slip through your fingers." He paused. "What a touching reunion. It's actually warming my heart."

"Pitch!" Jack spoke through gritted teeth. "You have one second to explain how you used the Ryans to get out of the dark."

The street filled with shadows, and all of us were spun around. I fell into a wall and as I found the kids, I was flipped back to find I was laying on the ground. Pitch was in front of me now, speaking too all of us although he looked at Jack.

"You didn't think you could get rid of me forever, did you?"

Right then, I understood I was wrong about him. There wasn't a crack of his past life slipping through after all.

"If there's something else I know," Pitch went on, "It's that children aren't exactly precious little snowflakes."

I clenched my fists.

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't anyone ever remind you, Amelia? Children copy everything from their parents." Then to Noah: "Why don't you show Mummy your special little box?"

"Noah…" A note of warning had crept into my tone …"What box?"

Noah's hand wobbled and his eyes threatened tears. He showed me a box, decorated gold, with a small image of his face printed onto the side. Tooth was gasping now and I grabbed the little box Noah had shown me. For a moment all I could do was stand there, stunned.

"YOU STOLE THIS?" I snapped.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I thought if I took it, I could find out where you were." Noah lowered his gaze. "Mom, please. I was scared, okay. I didn't know where you'd gone."

Tooth and I looked at each other. The Guardians turned to Noah, and then me. I hated to admit it, but I think Pitch was right. Children have always copied their parents, which meant I couldn't even set a decent example towards my own son. Something had to be done to get my kleptomania treated. Fixed, even. After all, stealing all the time was going to get me nowhere.

I crouched down and met Noah's eyes.

"Never do that again."

Pitch shot Jack a glare and remained holding his gaze.

"Do you remember when I said you make a mess wherever you go?"

Jack's eyes narrowed.

"Enough, Pitch."

"Amelia and her family were driving on the road when you iced it over to take Jamie sledding."

Terror flashed in Jack's eyes.

"No."

"Jack?" Jamie's voice was barely above a whisper.

Jack stared at me with wide shaken eyes.

"Amelia, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

Noah tightened his grip on my hand and asked, "Did Jack kill my dad?"

"No," I admitted, "And Pitch knows that." I took a deep breath and let it out. "Jack, listen to me, whether you'd iced the road over or not wouldn't have made a difference, believe me. I know I was speeding, but somebody cut the brakes." I held my hands up as though I was shaking an invisible box. "I swear to you that none of this is your fault. Look, the point is somebody deliberately put my child's life at risk."

"Hold on a second," Bunny said, "You mean to tell us that whoever it was didn't care if Noah wound up _dead_?"

"Yeah."

Jamie stared in disbelief.

"I can't believe it."

"I don't understand," Tooth started. "Why would someone try to kill a child?"

"Because people are sick," I told them. "I get that I was supposed to stop believing in you a long time ago and I know that if you can't protect me, then keep protecting my son. Please."

Pitch reached out to place a hand on my shoulder and began to say something.

"I understand it might be difficult to believe me when I say this, Noah, but your mother's telling you the truth."

"Don't you tell him anything!" Bunny growled, "Especially after you kidnapped his mom."

"I wasn't kidnapped," I retorted, "I went there on my own and the nightmares attacked us both."

Pitch smirked, flashing white teeth.

" _And_ we made a deal."

"What deal?" Jack spat.

"If I help him conquer his fears, he'll help me figure out who killed my husband and put my son in danger."

"Was it worth it?"

"North–"

He cut Tooth off.

"After what Pitch did before."

This couldn't be easy for them. He had a point. Yes, Pitch had done some bad things. Yes, Pitch was exactly someone who could be trusted. The silence was killing me. If I had thought about it before, I would have told them everything before Pitch had re-emerged. After running my hands over my face, I became aware of Bunny looking me right in the eyes.

"You're in hot water," he warned. Without missing a heartbeat, he added, "That man killed Sandy. But thanks to Jamie, we managed to get him back."

"It's amazing what a parent does for their child," Pitch mused.

I hated to confess it, but even Pitch had a point. As a mother, I'd do anything to keep my family safe. Even if it meant shaking the devil's hand. There were at least three things I was absolutely clear of. First, Pitch was a killer. Secondly, there was a part of him and I don't know how serious that part was, which craved recognition – and revenge. And I was completely and undeniably becoming useful to him.

Jack started to say something them, but before he could get the words out, North managed to cut in first. He squared his shoulders, looking directly at Pitch.

"Listen carefully. I rarely make decisions like this, but I am willing to give you a second chance."

Everyone froze. Even the kids.

Pitch added, "Is this a trick?"

"I am serious. That's the only chance you get. If you betray us, you will pay. Understand?"

The Boogeyman gave a dry chuckle.

"Understood."

"Good," North said, and folded his arms.

"But still…" Jack spoke to all of us, although he looked at the kids. "Scaring a child's one thing, but trying to get them killed…" He trailed off.

"I'm sorry, Jack," I murmured, "Sometimes there's people like that out there."

He looked down to find a hand tugging his sleeve.

"What do we do now?" Jamie asked.

* * *

A couple of days passed and still nobody had managed to find a lead. Things were starting to get a little weird, especially with knowing I couldn't mention the Guardians to anybody (adults specifically) or they'd believe I was crazy. Perhaps I was. For one, it felt good to know the stories from childhood weren't stories at all.

Dammit, this was hopeless. I couldn't find a motive, or a suspect who would bring my family harm. That was the problem when the police regarded it as a tragic night on the ice. Which I knew wasn't true. This was hopeless. Writing poetry wasn't going to help either and apparently, even the Boogeyman's real! Speaking of which…

Pitch had been acting unnaturally helpful with trying to find clues. Although we hadn't found anything yet, this behaviour was certainly out of character. For a while, I wondered how close he was to bringing a nightmare to a child after four years of being buried underground. Strangely, nothing of the sort had happened at all.

I snapped to life at the sound of my phone vibrating on the couch and took the call.

"Hello?"

" _Amelia, hi, how are you holding up?"_ Mrs Bennett asked.

"I'm okay. Thanks. Are the kids all right?"

" _They're fine. They got back from the park about an hour ago. Jamie told me this fun story about hanging out with Jack Frost to go and get an ice cream."_

As my mind rolled back to the memory of Jamie, Sophie and Noah arriving home with mint chocolate on their lips, I smiled. If she knew Jack was real….

" _Listen, Amelia. I was wondering if you could do something for me. I'm working late tonight and I wondered if you could come over and baby sit for a few hours. Please. It would be a really big help. Feel free to bring Noah with you and…"_

" _Mom,"_ Jamie protested from the other end of the phone, _"I'm twelve, I don't need babysitting."_

" _I'm on the phone to Amelia. Can you give us a moment?"_

The corners of my mouth twitched.

"Kids, huh?"

" _Yeah."_

"When do you need me to come over?"

" _Uh… a couple of hours, if that's okay."_

"Sounds good. I'll be over soon."

 _Click,_ and the call ended.

* * *

Before heading over to the Bennett household, I showered, topped up my make-up and threw on the nearest things I could find: blue jeans and a black high neck jumper with cut away shoulders. Finally, I got Noah ready, grabbed my bag, a box of cookies and headed down the street.

Most of the evening was spent watching TV with Jack and the kids. Most of what we saw were re-runs of _Scooby Doo_ and whenever we weren't watching TV, we were making ice sculptures that Jack brought to life and made dance around the yard. The fun we had was really starting to pay off and I was beginning to feel like my eight-year-old self again. And then that moment ended.

The bell rang. Jack shouted something at me and went to grab his staff. Missing what he said, I swung the door open and froze. Pitch's captivating eyes shifted towards me.

"Hi," I said, blinking brushing my hair back.

Then I saw the roses.

Before either of us could say anything more, Jack fired a blast at Pitch with so much strength, it nearly knocked him backwards. He gathered himself and in a calm, if not irritated tone, said, "I told you before, Jack. I'm not here to fight."

"I don't believe you."

Sophie and Noah ducked behind the couch. As if to show he was keeping to his word – at least for now – Pitch handed the roses to me. I managed a "Thank you" and glanced at him.

"Black really does look good on you."

I smiled and my face went red. As I closed the door, Pitch followed me into the kitchen. Jack remained staring at us with the same bewildered look. I didn't blame him for being so confused. Honestly, I was too.

I only realised Sophie and Noah appeared from behind the couch because Jack and Jamie were speaking to both of them in a reassuring tone. Ensuring they were okay, I shot Pitch a glance with an expression that read, _If you even think about frightening them, you'll have me to answer to._

He must have taken the hint because once I led him into the living room, he sat down, crossed his legs and didn't say a word. Sophie and Noah were still looking at him and then at each other. All the while, Jack was twitching to grab his staff. That was the moment I spotted the board games tucked away on the shelf. As my eyes lit up, I faced the five of them and suggested, "Why don't we play a game."

Pitch's mouth twitched and I was pretty sure he was fighting a smile.

"Now this will be interesting."

Jamie and I removed a few from the shelf and placed them on the ground. There was an outburst of laughter which quickly came to an end the second I became aware of the game Pitch had chosen: 'Sorry: The Game of Sweet Revenge." Of course he'd pick that. He held it up with such a keenness that it nearly made me giggle.

"Oh…no…" Jack murmured.

Noah decided to sit this game out, which at least meant he didn't have to bear the burden of each game Pitch had managed to win. We decided to call it a night after Pitch succeeded in winning another four rounds. And when Jack chose "Twister" as the next choice of game, I couldn't help but smile. He and Noah decided to be in charge of controlling the spinner while Pitch, Jamie, Sophie and myself leaned over each other, trying not to be the first one to fall.

"Right Hand, Green," Jack told her.

She made an attempt to move, but crashed into her brother and they landed on the floor. Jack gave a little laugh.

"You're out, guys."

The Bennett siblings got to their feet and perched on the couch, observing me and Pitch who were the last ones to play. A flicker of amusement passed in Jack's eyes.

Pitch shot him a look and asked, "What's so funny?"

Little did we know, until it was too late, that Jack had actually manipulated the turns. I tried not to fall as I placed my left foot on one of the yellow circles and looked up to find a pair of gold eyes peering at me. Our faces were so close it was nearly close enough to kiss. A bead of sweat trickled down Pitch's forehead and the heat had already wormed its way into my cheeks.

The children broke into a fit of laughter and Jack, who barely managed to keep his giggles under control, teased, "Aww. You do look cute together."

"Oh give it a rest, Frost," Pitch retorted.

That was the moment the strength in my arms faded and I fell to the floor, landing with a soft thud. While I got to my feet, Jack chuckled.

"I have to say," he began, "That was fun."

I had one last coherent thought before Mrs Bennett turned the key in the lock and started opening the door.

 _At least we made the effort._

* * *

 _I both appealed to him and satisfied him. I don't know what Pitch had imagined while we were together, maybe silence. Interrupted only with a quick intake of breath. But he spoke to me about what we were doing and how it made us feel in a low, rather hushed tone. Which provoked in me almost the same sensation as his hands._

" _Look at you," he murmured between breaths, "You're more capable than you think."_

 _When we made love, I felt as though I was following his voice._

I jolted awake, ripped from the dream where both of us were locked in an embrace.

 _Crap, crap, crap._

Except, every last detail remained planted in my brain. I broke into a warm and hot sweat when I awoke and pushed away the sheets. Memories of last night slowly came flooding back. Mrs Bennett had asked me to babysit her kids, Pitch had decided to intrude on our evening and Jack, feeling way too mischievous, had decided to make his old nemesis pay. The roses remained sitting in the vase which I'd placed them in last night before drifting off to sleep.

 _How could I dream about something like that?_

I hoped the answer would come when I wasn't feeling so confused.

* * *

There was a fire truck turning down the road a quarter before three, about an hour after I packed up from work and left to collect Noah from school. While grateful to be back in the privacy of my car, I kept thinking of that old saying, 'Seeing is believing'. The truth was, even when I did stop believing after the first ten years of my life, a part of me had still longed for the magic to be real.

Now it was.

The first thing I saw after pulling up near the school was thick smoke billowing into the sky. I made it as far as the gates before stopping and turning to the nearest person gathering in the crowd: a girl, about sixteen, with golden-brown eyes and a long yet lovely face.

"What happened?" I pleaded. "How did it start? Tell me, please!"

"I do not know," she said sincerely, glimpsing past my shoulder.

Far away from the school, on the other side of the road, the Guardians stood the furthest back, encouraging the children to stay together and await further instruction as the fire crew remained tackling the blaze. The principal, Mr Richards, checked one of the registers of the middle school groups and began taking the register.

"Noah?"

As I heard my son's name, I looked around.

"Has anyone seen Noah Ryan?" Mr Richards asked.

His voice sounded distant in my ears, as though it wasn't him speaking.

 _He's inside,_ a voice in my head screamed. _My child's still inside._

Without giving the teachers and firefighters a chance to think about stopping me, I rushed inside.

"Stop her!" someone shouted.

The second I looked into the flames, I covered my face, eyes burning from the acrid smoke, the flames momentarily catching my boots. No one else had rushed in. Too dangerous. Noah was missing. If he was on a lower level, he was dead. If he was on higher ground, there was still a chance of saving him. Gasoline. My jaw clenched as the fire continued to rise. It had to be. The wind picked up, almost like it was guiding me and I recoiled when the flames lurched my way. Then part of the ground disappeared underneath my feet.

 _Find Noah and get the hell out of here!_

"Noah?"

My voice was urgent admit the snapping.

"Noah!"

I kept going a few more steps. The first floor of the building had windows all the way up the staircase. Smoke billowed inside them, from where they had long already broken from the heat.

"No."

I saw an arm. A face. And light brown hair.

"NOAH!"

Could I save him? I stared at him on the floor, underneath my feet. He might be dead.

 _Please don't be._

After picking him up, I knew. There was movement, followed by a cough.

"It's okay. Mom's here. Mom's got you."

I ran as fast as I could towards the nearest exit, and didn't really know what was happening until part of the roof came plummeting down. Every single crack of the flames might be the last noise both of us would hear. I snapped to life at the sound of a voice screaming my name.

"AMELIA!"

It was Bunny.

"Amelia, where are you?"

The second voice was Jack's.

I coughed a little, but managed to tell them where I was. Which wasn't easy because they were hidden in the smoke. I heard a knock and the intensity of the heat slowly began to drop.

"Jack? Bunny?"

Eventually, my hand touched something cold.

"That's my nose," Jack muttered.

Bunny gave a little laugh, but then his tone became serious.

"Are you crazy? What the hell were you thinking?"

"I had to save him."

Noah's breath came in short, quick gasps.

"Jack. Bunny." he croaked, "I'm scared."

"We know, we know," Bunny responded.

"But it's gonna be all right," Jack said to him, "We're gonna have a little fun instead, all right?"

Noah offered a weak chuckle. A moment later, Jack froze the entire corridor, leading down towards the nearest safe exit and before we knew it, the four of us were sliding down the stairs. We gathered ourselves and ran, barely managing to make it outside before the final explosion sent sparks towards the telephone wires while scarcely managing to avoid catching the trees.

 _Thank you,_ I mouthed.

Hundreds of people glanced up as I walked across the playground, taking deep breaths and cradling my child.

"Is that Amelia Ryan?" one of the mothers whispered.

I wiped dust and ash away from my face and scanned the expressions of the already gathered crowd. Some were looks of relief, others were looks of concern. Whatever they were thinking didn't matter to me. The only thing I cared about was understanding that my son was safe.

Realising Noah and I had no serious injuries, the paramedics gave us some oxygen and wrapped us in a blanket. We answered as many of the police's questions as we could and they reassured us by saying if they discovered anything suspicious, they'd let us know.

Most of the people who kept whispering to themselves long after the fire had been put out, were children; eager to know why I would do such a thing. Perhaps it was because I had the courage to chase away the darkness.

By the time everyone was allowed to go, the crowd had long started to disperse. As expected, Jamie and Noah (like most of the children) were fairly shaken up. But Jack, being the optimistic and caring spirit he was, reminded them that while they weren't going to be able to return to school for a long, long time – promised to make a snow day that would be a hard one to forget.

* * *

Six and a half hours later, I put Noah to bed and stayed with him until he'd fallen asleep. I'd already climbed into bed myself when the room started to darken. A shadowy figure crawled out from underneath the bed and came towards me, trapping me against the bedposts.

He rattled me hard and screamed, "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED."

"Pitch, listen to me, I–"

"Never scare me like that again!"

When he let me go, I froze. This was new information.

"What?"

"You heard me," he seethed.

"Did you really think I'd stand there and let my son die?" I retorted.

"Amelia, don't be stupid."

"Do you have any idea how frightened I was? No, don't answer that. This isn't your place to tell me what to do."

"You made it my place when you ran into that building."

"Why do you care about me risking my life to protect my own child?"

The question stunned him to the bone. After a brief contemplation, he squeezed my hands. And then he was kissing me. Once, twice, until I'd had a taste and realised I would never have enough. He was everywhere up my back and over my arms and suddenly he was kissing me deeper, harder, with a feverent urgent need I never thought he had before.

With that, he left and disappeared into the darkness of the street.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hey's how's it going. I didn't expect this chapter to actually become as long as it did, but at least I've finally got it uploaded for those of you still following the story. Really hope you're still enjoying it. It looks like the Guardians have got a much bigger problem than they originally thought and believe it or not, Pitch  might actually be the least of their worries (I know what he did in the film was terrible but at least he didn't physically harm any of the kids). Considering a lot of things with him and Amelia have slowly began to happen, things are likely to get very exciting. **_

_**See you all soon ^_^**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Amelia**

At quarter past eight, my mind was drawn away from the peacefulness of sleep and I rolled over and found myself staring at Pitch Black's eyes. He twiddled with a golden strand of my hair, his eyes blazing with tenderness and affection.

" _What_ are you doing here?"

"Sweet dreams?" he asked.

"I think I'm still in one," I murmured, reaching up to turn off the alarm clock. "Do you remember what I said about you watching me sleep?"

"Of course."

"I still think it's creepy."

Pitch leant forward a little and chuckled.

"Finally. Someone who knows how to have a little common sense."

"All the doors and windows were locked. How did you get inside?"

"My dear Amelia, you seem to be forgetting that I wield the power of shadows and darkness," he said, " _And_ I can become them."

I smirked.

"That's still breaking and entering."

He feigned innocence.

"Nothing was broken."

"It's the law." A deep yawn worked its way out of my mouth. "I've gotta get going. My brother offered to home school Noah, so I said I'd drop him off."

Pitch leaned over and kissed me. Then he left.

* * *

Much later, Noah gave me a kiss goodbye and leapt out of the car, despite my offer of accompanying him to John's front door. After Jamie and Noah's school had been turned to ashes and the other schools in town were struggling to accommodate the temporary students, I found myself relying – not for the first time – on John's eagerness to help. Which was terrific because as a widow, it was difficult enough.

I was already driving into town and pulling into the nearest parking space I could find when a rush of ice shot in front of the car. Throwing my hands up, I shouted, "Seriously, Jack?"

"Sorry!" he replied, grinning moments after he saw me.

What followed next was a long gust of wind. It was quarter to eleven at that point and the day's fog was thickening, like the pages of a novel. Most of the sidewalk remained covered with snow (thanks to Jack and his powers). Definitely as magical as a ghost drifting around the earth.

But still: the longing.

It rose suddenly, emotion overcoming logic and filled me with a desperation that left me in a trance. And I knew someone was behind me even before the hand fell on my shoulder. I spun round and faced him.

"Gavin?"

He took a step forward, now invading my personal space.

"Where are you off to?"

Taking a step backwards, I replied, "I was on my way home."

Gavin let out a dry chuckle.

"Already? Let me get you a coffee."

I hesitated a moment and then said, "I'm not in the mood."

Even after making it clear I wasn't interested, footsteps advanced from a little way behind me.

"Come on, Amelia, it's just coffee."

"No, thank you."

His expression contorted.

"You're not being very nice to me."

"My son's school burnt down and all you're worried about is not getting your own way."

At first, I believed he was going to yell. Or hit me. But he reached into his pocket and before I even had time to react, he dropped something into my hands.

 _What the hell?_

They were keys to my home. My stomach twisted into knots.

"Well, then," Gavin said. "I won't need these anymore."

He left me standing alone in the street, confused and afraid.

* * *

The girl who'd been at the school yesterday stood on the other side of the road. Her clothes were different, reflecting something majestic, from an earlier time. A long-sleeved dress fell at her feet and her long black hair fell past her shoulders. What was she doing here? Who was she?

The sky was heavy and oppressing as though matching the look in her eyes. A look someone had when glimpsing into a window of another person's soul. I let out a long breath, marched over and confronted her.

"Who are you and why are you following me?"

"My name is Emily Jane. Please, I do not wish to frighten you."

"Then why are you following me?" I repeated, almost automatically.

Emily glanced at me more closely and suggested, "Let's speak somewhere more private."

She waited for me to purchase a bottle of water and a sandwich, which surprisingly, I ate quicker than I'd thought as we wandered into the park. We spent the best part of our journey without saying a word, apart from my offer to buy her something from the takeaway café.

Her eyes fixed on a row of trees swaying near the fence, and then she glimpsed at something underneath them. Whatever she'd seen was probably a trick of the light because she responded by shaking her head in sorrow. Afterwards, she made a space for me on the nearest bench.

"Amelia."

The sound of my name rolling off her tongue came out as a murmur. The fact that she knew who I was terrified me. How in the world did she know who I was? Really? Was this a trick, a trap, a scam?

"I'm not saying you're not who you claim to be, but…"

"It's a lot to take in," Emily finished, sweeping her gaze around. "I think that you are wary of me, that's fine. I do not blame you for it. But try to trust me when I tell you this: I have known about you. For some time. Especially as I've been Mother Nature for so long."

"You're Mother Nature." My eyes lit up. "Really?"

Emily nodded. After failing to hide a grin, her expression grew serious.

"You're in danger."

I blinked and didn't say anything. None of that made sense. Part of me believed it was a mistake. Nonetheless, I accepted the facts.

"He's been lying to you," Emily continued.

"Who has?"

"Who do you think?"

I didn't answer. We remained looking at each other. After a few seconds, I told her what I'd wanted to ever since the conversation had started.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because he's just trying to protect you – and I still see good in him."

Emily gave me a sympathetic look and then seemed satisfied. When I started to walk away, she shot her hand out at my arm and held. I grabbed my hand and tried to pry her off but she was unnaturally strong.

"You're hurting me."

My mind rolled over crazy possibilities of how I'd let myself be drawn in further by the shadows. As Emily let go of my hand, a new feeling seared through me, making me whole: Courage. Ben always said I had the courage to do just about anything and he was right. Because now, thinking about him made me want to seek justice and end his killer. Which brought me back to Pitch. Did he know I was here, let alone the fact that I'd met Mother Nature?

"Be careful. Don't let anyone fool you," she warned. "Pitch was fooled once, a very long time ago. He believed I was in danger, because these horrible Dream Pirates tricked him into believing so. When he was guarding their prison, they used my wish for him to return against him. Because of what he became, I thought it better to stay away from him. If I were to have been found, he might have killed me and Captain Sandy. However, I told him I would not take sides whenever he fought the Guardians. After that I moved on. Yet it broke my heart when Sandy was killed. But the boy, Jamie, I have him to thank for Sandy's resurrection. You know, for a long time, I believed Pitch had forgotten me."

A twinge of sadness had crept into her voice. And something else: love.

"Why do you care about him so much?"

She faltered for a moment, but managed an answer.

"That doesn't matter right now."

I gripped her wrist.

"Tell me."

Her expression darkened. Thunder rolled overhead, threatening to submerge the park in a downpour of rain.

"If you do not find it in your heart to trust me at all, then I cannot help you. Nor do I wish to hinder you."

I nodded.

"Okay."

"A demon killed Ben because he made a deal with it."

Terror threatened to consume me.

"What deal?"

"I do not know, but I think it was something to do with your son."

Which I was now starting to remember.

Emily added, "The demon's managed to remain undetected. If we can tell the Guardians, then we can protect everyone. Not just the children. But we must hurry. If we don't, I fear there could be a greater loss on our hands."

"Why are you helping me?" I asked.

"We both fighting for the same cause… our families."

"Why can't you just tell me how you know Pitch?"

Emily chuckled.

"You're going to find out very soon."

As snowflakes descended from the sky, she faded within the heaviness of the clouds.

 _BOOF!_

A snowball struck me in the back of the head. After originally planning to yell, a rush of mischief shot through me.

"Okay, Jack, I know that was you."

He flew into the middle of the park, carrying Jamie securely on his back. After putting Jamie down, he threw his hands up in mock surrender and laughed.

"Well, you got me."

Before either of us had a chance to react, Jamie threw a snowball at the back of Jack's head, knocking him back. As he spun round, Jamie and I pointed at each other. The mayhem persisted as I gathered snowballs into my arms. And when Jack struck me with one, I chuckled.

"Are you okay, Amelia?" Jamie asked.

"Never better."

A look of excitement appeared in Jack's eyes. His mouth twitched and I was pretty convinced he was fighting a smile. Then the sense of joy suddenly turned to anguish. Jack and Jamie looked at each other. In an attempt to engage me, Jack leapt down from the bench and moved his head to concentrate on me.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"There's something I need to tell both of you. Ben was killed by a demon. It cut the brakes on our car…" My eyes threatened tears …"And I think it attacked the school." The news hit Jack like a punch to the gut. With a disheartened expression, Jamie remained searching my face. "According to Mother Nature–"

"She's real?" Jamie asked.

I nodded. "According to her, Ben made a deal with the demon: something involving Noah."

Jack shot me a look.

"I think you know, don't you, Amelia?"

"My son," I started, but then my voice cracked. "My son had a tumour. When we found out, it was too late. Because my husband would have given anything for our child, he went as far as looking into supernatural cures. Except he was duped. Ben traded his soul, but for some reason, the demon took him sooner. We don't exactly know _who_ the demon was. Which means it could be anyone."

Jamie watched me, worried. If Jack and I were unnerved by this, how unnerving must this be for a twelve-year-old boy? As if on cue, Jack placed a hand on Jamie's shoulder.

"Oh, Amelia, what have you done?"

"Ben started this," I said sincerely. "I didn't know he planning a demon deal."

"But you knew he was getting involved with the supernatural," Jamie reminded me.

"Besides, what if Pitch knows who the demon is, and what if he's playing you?" Jack paused. "Have you thought about that?"

I didn't need to be reminded that he'd done some bad things over the years, and he must have relished in them. But if it was true about him playing me, why had he been so worried about me running back into the fire to save Noah? And why would he bother to kiss me if he really didn't care? Although I knew the answer to that, still it made me wonder if the kiss truly meant something to him at all.

This whole situation was becoming one huge mess. Seconding that, it already was. If I had talked Ben out of it, if I had asked more questions about what he'd been plotting… people were in danger because of us. If Jamie or Sophie had been in Noah's position, wouldn't Mrs Bennett have done everything she could to keep her family safe?

Pitch was right. It was amazing what a parent did for their child.

Which brought me back to Emily. Whoever she was to him, her longing to reconcile would always remain. While I was thinking about everything, I was certain I had seen a strand of black hair whipping against her face. My eyes adjusted to the falling snowflakes and indeed, there she was.

"I have to go," I said to Jamie and Jack, "I'll see you soon."

It was almost noon. Again, Emily had wandered off. I took the short walk to the clearing and didn't see anything new in particular. The grass remained dusted with snow and…

"Boo!"

My hand punched something. It groaned, and when I got a better look at it my eyes widened.

"Pitch?"

He rubbed his face and said, "I should probably get used to that by now."

"I'm sorry. Are you all right?"

"Don't worry. You didn't knock out a tooth."

We looked at each other a moment later, and the glance passing between us was tender and loving; on Pitch's part the uneasy feeling of a man who had been forced to face long forgotten emotions buried in his past, on mine an understanding I recognised clear enough to define.

"The school was attacked by a demon," I said quickly. "The same one that killed Ben."

He placed a hand on my shoulder and replied, "Poor Jamie and Noah. That's awful."

And here he was again, on his stage, standing before me with his pale-grey face, glowing eyes and sensual lips.

"The worst thing is, the cops wouldn't believe a word of it. No one would."

I kept glimpsing at Pitch's fingers, those long, sensitive fingers tracing the curve of my arm. Breaking the trance, I asked, "Are you still here because I'm useful to you? Is that the only reason you're 'protecting' me? Because if it is, nothing gives you the right to use me. Understand?"

Pitch's throat swelled. His chest was heaving now then he started walking away. Every muscle in his back tensed all at once and when he turned around, he didn't look at me straight away. We locked eyes and I found myself unable to turn away.

"I don't think you understand what this is doing to me, do you?" he spat. "You know, for a grown woman, you spend an awful lot of time missing what's in front of you."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe I care about you. Maybe I've grown to love you."

His words struck me like an arrow to the heart.

"That's impossible."

Pain and anger flared in his eyes. Straight away, Pitch embraced me, holding me against his chest. I leaned in for a kiss and he bent down to accept my offer. Pitch ran his hands over my face then into my hair. He leaned closer and brushed his face over my cheeks until his lips met mine. I opened my mouth a little and Pitch saw that as the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His hands lingered in and out of my hair. His skin was warm. It felt good. Exactly how the sunlight would feel. He looked at me, his eyes burning with pleasure and satisfaction. He pulled me into another kiss. This time, I kissed him back.

Something else rang true.

Emily wasn't lying.

"Come with me," he murmured.

The corners of my mouth twitched.

Going to Pitch's lair again, I didn't feel terrified at all. I felt excited. For the first time in a long time, I was starting to let someone else find a place in my heart. We stopped at the globe and heard the scuffling. My heart leapt into my throat the moment Onyx lunged at Pitch. This time, I got between them and raised my hands.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, girl, easy. That's it. Settle down." As she stopped, I commanded, "Now put him down. Come on." After she dropped him to the ground, I tickled her around the face and said, "Oh, you are such a good girl." The touch of her mane against my neck caused me to giggle. "Are you tired from chasing the bad man all over the place?" Onyx made neighing sounds in her throat. "Nobody appreciates you, do they? Do they?"

"Come on. She's a bad horse."

"Oh she's nothing but a big sweetheart. Isn't that right, Onyx?"

The corner of Pitch's mouth twitched.

"Hmm… it was interesting to see that dream of yours the other night."

My smile dropped.

"That was private."

He cackled.

"Not anymore."

Pitch started to back away, becoming one with the darkness and smiled as he disappeared. Silence fell upon the lair like a bed sheet and the globe of belief remained flickering away, lighting up any believing child. It took me a little while to figure that out, but from my basic Geography, those places on the globe were vastly populated areas. It reminded me of an exhibit in a museum.

I turned back to the passageway where Pitch had disappeared and left myself wondering for the thrill of it if he was hiding in plain sight. Even courageous justice seekers had imaginations! After bringing out my keys and switching on the mini flashlight, its small beam guided the way.

Something appeared to be gathering inside the impending darkness, hidden, yet heavy and intriguing. Words came to my mouth with a burning curiosity.

"What is this place?"

The words echoed down the shadowy passageway as a body would have fallen through ice, sinking further and further and leaving nothing but devastation. Or releasing creatures long kept at bay.

My fingers trailed along the ancient stone walls before I was greeted by an ancient set of doors, towering above the archway. Placing both hands on the knobs, it was surprising to find neither of them were locked. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. It was time to go inside.

What I discovered there was a devastating sight. Thousands of books were scattered across the floor and most of the furniture was broken and overturned. Next, my attention was drawn in by a framed photograph laying in the corner, fading with age. I crouched down and held it. _General Kozmotis Pitchiner_ , the caption read.

The man staring back at me had the same black hair and almost looked nothing like Pitch. Apart from the handsome face and eyes, not yet gold. His skin was a regularly healthy tone and he wore a uniform, the same one I had seen hanging in his wardrobe. Now I was afraid of whatever had changed him from that noble heroic man into a creature of the night. The answer to my questions laid right here, emanated by a slow passing tick, chiming when its hands reached the hour. And as I touched it, the broken room fell away around me.

Somewhere from within, I was pulled through time at an unnervingly fast pace. The world around me reversed ferociously, transforming into day and night. Faster than I had ever seen in my life. The moon remained and ever so quickly, I witnessed the explosion of a galleon and a battle, presumably the last. I didn't know what the battle was about, but it reversed so fast. My stomach churned and I found myself floating around in space. I was going fast through the remarkable sights and the stars, galaxies and constellations danced before my eyes. Then I understood that the explosion I was observing was the destruction of those peculiar new worlds. What I now saw was Pitch's army eliminating each place after the next. But I didn't understand. Why would someone want to destroy something so magnificent?

And as I continued my journey back through time, the universe again began filling with life. Wait a minute. Were those _ships_ flying across the sky? Everything became more difficult to take in. The cities around me were so vast they were bigger than New York itself. It pained me to think Pitch had once snuffed out this light.

Less than two minutes later, I found myself at a much eerier place. It appeared to be a dungeon. Like Emily had said, this must have been where the Fearlings were imprisoned. I ducked behind the nearest pillar, unable to tear my gaze from Pitch, who remained at his post in front of the solitary door.

It was incredible to see the man I'd grown to love before his transformation. He looked every part the hero he'd once been. Strong. Brave. Noble. Even handsome in that ancient uniform. But his committed expression grew tired and burdened with sadness. From behind that door, hisses and whispers came from within. That's awful. Especially for Pitch who must have been vigil to it for many days and nights. Indeed, the burden seemed to press on him. He wore a tired expression and his fists were clenched. He pulled something out of his pocket and looked at it. The small locket hung around his neck and as he opened it, I could merely distinguish young Emily's face. His expression softened and his sadness faded a little. I knew that look. It was the same look Ben used to have when he thought about Noah.

Emily was Pitch's daughter!

How did I not figure this out before? As a mother, I sensed his longing to be reunited with his child. As Emily had explained, the Fearlings recognised it too. Their voices changed, and when I understood what they were saying the waterworks began.

"Please, Daddy," they mimicked, "Please, please, please open the door."

A glimmer of hope appeared in Pitch's eyes. He almost smiled, but recognised the trap. He set his lips in a tight line and he still looked devastated. The pleading began again.

"Daddy. I'm trapped in here with these shadows, and I'm scared. Please open the door. Help me, Daddy, please."

Again, Pitch glimpsed at the photo. Their cries grew more despairing. More _entrancing_. And Pitch appeared to be falling for their trap. His face contorted into a mask of fear. He went to open the door. The locket fell from his neck, the chain broken. An old wizard caught it in mid-air and both of us went to block Pitch from opening the door when Bunny suddenly appeared. Although they didn't seem to notice me, I found myself unable to move, to think, incapable even of turning away from the despondency confronting me.

The moment Bunny scolded the wizard, I knew right then Pitch's transformation was a fixed point in time. No amount of interfering was ever going to prevent it. Yet Bunny, apparently, was there to stop the wizard.

Once the wizard, Bunny and myself turned back to Pitch, shock and pain reflected in the fallen General's eyes – the desperation of a father doing everything he could to protect his child. The memory of running into Jamie and Noah's blazing school hit me so hard it brought tears to my eyes. Only a parent understood another parent's fear. I'd wanted to protect Noah, just as Pitch had wanted to protect Emily.

Unable to stop myself, I yelled "Don't!" and went to grab his arm. Pitch ran through me, like I were a ghost. I staggered back, speechless, as though the wind had been knocked out of me.

Pitch opened the door and the only thing that could be seen was a swarm of snake-like beings. Obviously, Emily wasn't in there. Before Pitch had a chance to scream her name, the shadows fell on him. In seconds they swarmed over, around, into him! I felt my stomach turn to ice. Pitch struggled, but his efforts were in vain. He succumbed to their evil and they warped him into a monster. He grew to ten times his original height, his face twisting into something nightmarish and inhuman. Pitch threw his head back and roared with the sinister laughter of every one of the Fearlings.

Hands grabbed me from behind. A scream lodged its way into my throat and the walls of the dungeons faded inside the past. And then I realised I was returning to the present.

"Now you know."

He shut his eyes, but it never stopped the tears from streaming down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry…" I murmured, approaching him, taking in everything I had recently seen.

Pitch's expression darkened.

"That was private."

I shot him an apologetic glance and added, "It was stupid of me to go poking around, I get it. But you told me not to put my life in danger to rescue my son when you did the same for your own daughter."

"Because I wasn't given a choice," he seethed, "You were."

"You cared! That wasn't your fault. Besides, Emily's the one who told me about the demon."

"Of course she would."

I looked up at him and offered my hand.

"No more secrets."

Pitch shook it.

"You have my word."

* * *

The moment I stepped inside my house, I realised something was wrong. My entire living room was painted bright red…red on the walls…red on the ceiling…red on the floor from where there had been a struggle and red on me. Blood red. All over the floor.

Noah and John laid sprawled in the middle and I realised why I was trembling all over: John's head rested at an angle, his neck snapped.

The world moved on and left me behind. The realisation of how much I cared about John crashed down on me with a sickening thud. My brother was dead. Fear seized me, but I remained looking at him.

Out of nowhere, Gavin appeared beside Noah and John. Even after ten seconds, I was still reeling from the revelation that Gavin was the demon.

"You," I rasped, "You killed Ben."

Gavin said nothing, but took a step closer towards Noah. He picked him up, brought a knife down and held it against my child's throat.

* * *

 **O.O And so the plot thickens! I'm not so sure taking Pitch's word for it is exactly a good idea.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Amelia**

That was enough to make me freeze in place. All I could do was stare at Noah's motionless form. He could wake any minute and then what? Stare wide-eyed while Gavin remained behind him and silently slit his throat? He'd been through enough, at least spare my child.

"Put the knife down," I said slowly.

Gavin's smile gleamed with satisfaction. The second he laid his chin against Noah's neck, I stared at him with unmasked disgust. As though smelling my fear, Noah drifted awake. He groaned, but managed to focus himself. Next came gestures that were more of a struggle and whatever had alerted him slowly fell away as if sensing I was there. Then his eyes grew wide.

"MOM–"

Gavin clamped his hand to Noah's mouth, muffling most of his fear-stricken cries.

"Shut up," he hissed and shook Noah like a ragdoll.

He was shaking in terror, just the way Gavin liked it. The words, muffled against the demon's hand, sounded like a terrified "Please, please."

"Don't hurt him. Do whatever you want to me, just let him go."

Gavin kept his gaze on me the whole time.

 _Why is he doing this?_

Everything was becoming more and more surreal. My living room was a bloodbath and a constant reminder of my brother's corpse laying across the floor, sprawled into a bloody heap.

 _Shit_.

The revelation of Gavin's plan struck me like freezing water.

 _Oh shit, shit, shit._

Within moments of learning that Gavin planned to let Noah bleed out slowly and painfully, I struggled to keep my balance and sucked in deep breaths of air.

"If you hurt my baby, I will kill you," I warned. "Understand?"

Everything was going too fast now. Too fast to focus. Gavin stuck his hand out, stretching his fingertips as far as they'd go. I fell into the wall, landing with a crash.

"I hope you realise," Gavin started, "That you ruin everything you touch."

And when he stared down at me, I yelled "Bullshit!" and tried to get to my feet.

"You've got your husband killed, you've put your son at risk and now, I've got you exactly where I want you. If that retched Boogeyman had just stayed under the beds… he knew everything, everything I was planning to do to you and your precious family."

Gavin's words hit home and as painful as it was, Jack had been right to have his suspicions. Slowly, he moved his hand from Noah's mouth to the boy's throat, ready to clamp it back if he screamed.

"It's your fault children are in danger. It's because of you that hundreds could have died– ARGH!"

A wave of relief washed right over me, yet I remained transfixed, rooted to the floor the instant Gavin discarded his chew toy by throwing it to the ground, striking it with his foot so hard it curled into a ball. He stared at his hand, stunned by the teeth marks and the blood Noah had drawn.

Gavin lunged at me, meeting me in mid-air with a bone jarring thud. We fell to the floor. Gavin and I grappled a lot, kicked and punched our way at each other. I took in the size of the demon. He was powerful and fuelled by his resentment. And he was also insane. I was strong yet fuelled by courage. This fight couldn't last long. If it did, I might not survive.

 _How am I supposed to stop him?_

Gavin was getting stronger as we fought. I grappled when I didn't have the chance, preferring to lunge from the side, landing kicks and punches. Gavin shrugged it off and kept going. I came behind him and struck him in the jaw. I lunged at him, then moved away and felt my ankle click. I was getting tired and Gavin landed a blow to my eye, and when he was about to deliver the killing blow dark tentacles, made from sand, snaked around his arms, up his legs, pinning him to the floor.

Pitch stood over him, scythe in hand.

"Did you really think I'd let you harm them?" he seethed.

Gavin opened his mouth to protest, but didn't get the chance because Pitch brought the scythe down, chopping deep into his neck. I screamed. It wasn't the gurgling sounds that came as blood spurted from Gavin's throat, it wasn't the reality of seeing Pitch make the kill. It was the _horror_ of seeing his lips part, revealing jagged teeth and throwing his head back while roaring with laughter.

"Don't be afraid, Amelia. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Noah, run!"

I gasped for air and bolted towards the door. It was still open and I hoped Noah and I still had a chance.

* * *

Less than two minutes later, Noah and I bolted down the street, zigzagging everywhere, searching for a place to hide. We entered the woods on the nearest path, giving the main street a wide berth. The time would come for facing Pitch, but it hadn't come yet.

We ducked behind one of the many trees in the park, and I halted Noah so we could wait.

"Mom, will he find us?"

I crouched down, met his eyes and replied, "I don't know."

Most people would normally call the cops. That was the first thing anyone would do when they were in danger. But to tell them that demons and boogeymen were out to get you was a one way ticket to the psychiatric hospital. If it was ever an option, I would have considered it. But there was no point to being trapped in a place where you'd be separated from your child. Especially when he was counting on you to save him. Apart from my mom and dad, I was the only immediate family Noah still had. Which brought me back to Pitch, the shadow of a man he once was; somebody who'd had a home and a family. Except things were different now.

It was difficult remembering Pitch gained his strength from fear, but the more I reminded myself I managed to calm down. Noah's heart must have been in overdrive, because the look on his face suggested he'd broken into a sweat. He gripped my hand and urged me to keep moving. And as he loosed his grip, his eyes reflected the outlines of a plan.  
"We need to find the Guardians. They can protect both of us."

I shook my head.

"They can't."

Noah's lip wobbled and his eyes threatened tears. He clenched his fists in anger – or was it fear?

"That's a LIE."

"Noah, they can't protect me because I'm not a child. They're not supposed to protect adults."

"Tell me the truth!"

"I am!" I shouted, "Grown-ups have to take care of themselves, that's how it works. It's our job to protect kids like you."

"And the Guardians?"

Pointing to his heart, I told him, "They protect what's here."

"When Pitch finds us, I'm gonna kick him in the butt."

The corners of my mouth twitched.

"Let me tell you something. You could, but you'd make him mad. Then what? You'd get bad dreams, they might not go away."

"But most of the time, that's all he does. I'll protect you, Mom. I'd _always_ protect you."

Noah wrapped his arms around me. After a moment, I offered him a warm embrace.

"My little Guardian. It's my job to protect _you_."

We knew nothing of the Nightmares. We didn't even register them until they emerged from the woods, coming from every direction, closing in on us.

"Mom…"

"They're just bad dreams, Noah." Another thing occurred to me. "Onyx? Onyx, if you can understand me, if you're here, I'm not afraid." _But my son is,_ I added mentally.

One of the Nightmares came into the middle, scuffed its feet then made nickering sounds at the rest. And as they lunged at us, Noah shrieked.

"Mom, look out!"

My hand made contact with the nearest horse, only this time the sand remained black.

"What?"

 _They can smell our fear,_ a voice in my head reminded me.

As if on cue, they closed in. My eyes widened and I started to back away, gripping my son's wrist. They picked up speed.

"Ahhh, Mom… AAAAAHHHHHH!"

The surface became slippery underneath my feet and when Noah faltered, I screamed "Run!" and dragged him with me. His breath came in short, quick gasps. He simply couldn't stop himself from shaking above the web of cracks emanating underneath his feet. I went to take another step, causing another web to appear around mine.

 _No, no, no, no._ Jack never would...

"Noah, look at me. Keep your eyes on me. Don't look down." Failing to keep the tremor from my voice, I added, "Now what you've got to remember, is that everything will be okay."

"Not, it won't."

"Would I lie to you?"

"No. You never do."

"Okay, okay listen to me. I promise you'll be…you'll be all right. You're not gonna die. You have to believe in me. Noah, take my hand." I crouched down a little, trying to reach him. "Don't worry, I've got you. I've got you."

The second he clasped my hand, he shuffled towards me, his gaze already trapped by the unpredictable surface.

"Help."

"Come on. Come on, Noah. You're almost there. You're almost there."

Chunks of ice broke around our feet.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP US!"

Jack appeared in half a second, stunning me with his speed. His eyes widened as he took everything in. At the same time, a glimmer of hope flickered in my gaze as he reached towards us, using his staff.

The ice cracked again as he instructed, "Amelia. Noah. Grab on."

That was the second my foot lodged itself between two chunks of ice. I felt my stomach drop. With all the strength I could muster, I lifted Noah up and to Jack, pleaded, "Take him! TAKE HIM!"

Jack reached out and grabbed Noah's hand. No longer did I care about the fast breaking ice, the cracks widening further underneath my feet, or the way my heart remained beating at an uneven pace. As long as Noah was safely away from the ice, as long as he was no longer in danger, I couldn't care about anything else. Even when Jack held his staff out for me to grab, even when I yanked my foot out of the ice, even when Jack and Noah both screamed my name, my foot gave way and I plummeted into the icy water below.

* * *

A deep gasp erupted from my throat, followed by hyperventilation that was a thousand times greater than my regular rate of breathing when I shot out of the water and clambered up the slope. As I looked around, I realised it was night. There were police lines wrapped all around the trees, flapping in the breeze and tape mapping where a body had once lain. It sent chills through my whole body.

When I gathered myself, a lot later, my chest was heaving and my throat was raw. I reached into my pockets and at that moment recognised I'd forgotten to pick up my phone. Why was I even looking for it? Where was Noah? Why was I at the pond long after dark?

Five minutes later, I came across an unfamiliar yet familiar house. And why were the older couple inside speaking to the cops? More importantly, why were they with Noah? Who were they? Something terrible must have happened, because I don't think I'd ever seen anyone looking so upset.

I was about to approach the solitary house when the cops opened the door.

"Hi. Sorry, can you tell me what's going on, please?"

They walked straight through me. I staggered back and crashed into the fence.

"Noah!"

Memories of why this had happened came flooding back. Pitch's Nightmares had chased Noah and I to the pond. Jack had been there, and he'd saved my child. Because of Pitch another life was lost. Speak of the devil…

He lingered a short distance in front of me, holding my gaze.

"This must be a shock for you."

Although he spoke in a gentle, soothing tone; something else passed in his expression.

Devastation.

The man who'd enjoyed the rush of fear, who'd been hidden away for many years, was showing me he cared. There was a brief moment of silence when the Boogeyman studied my face, searching for answers. In that moment, when he'd first laid eyes on me, I found myself lost in his eyes, but managed quickly to break away from the trance.

"I didn't know this would get you killed," Pitch went on.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you chased us."

"I can't leave you. Not after what I've done." He was getting annoyed now, but he managed to remain calm anyway. "Even before that, your family didn't look after you. Not really. All of your life I stepped back and gave them a chance, but…" He cleared his throat… "It's time to come home."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to be on your own."

I shook my head."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

Pitch looked hurt, then his eyes flared with anger.

"I wasn't giving you a choice."

"I'll scream."

"Even if you did, no one would hear you. They can't even see you."

I hadn't thought it possible for his eyes to narrow further, but they did.

"Very well," Pitch added, "You don't want to go with me. Fine."

He stared at me and for a brief moment I thought he would then burst into tears. Instead he reached into his pocket and held something, and before I even had time to react, he'd thrown a handful of black sand directly at my face, giving me no chance to duck.

I fell to the ground, and before slipping into a nightmare induced sleep the last thing I registered was Pitch lifting me into his arms.


End file.
